“Hit it?” I repeated out loud.
Dante slammed his foot into the accelerator and did some sort of weird move I’d only ever seen stunt devils do as he maneuvered through traffic and took the next exit.
My body slammed into the door. “Okay I think we lost them.”
“Shit!” Dante roared twisting the steering wheel to the right and going down another side street. His eyes darted from right to left, then back before he put the car in park. “Give me the phone.”
“Why are we stopping?” Panic seized my chest.
“The phone, El.”
I handed it over.
“I’ll need clean up,” was all he said to Nixon before turning off the phone and holding my face between his hands. “Get on the floor. Now.”
“But—”
“You love me. I need you to trust me. Right now, El.”
I undid my seatbelt and moved to the floor just as he popped the trunk and walked around it.
Why was he walking so slow?
I peeked over the seat.
That was in there the whole time?
He pulled out an AR-16, shoved in some ammo and held it in the air.
I scrambled for the phone just in case.
I had no weapon.
I squeezed my eyes shut as a black SUV screeched to a halt in the street in front of us then turned toward our parked car.
They didn’t stand a chance.
Dante started firing rounds so hard and fast I had to plug my ears.
Tires popped in the SUV, a guy with a gun tried to shoot at Dante but he got him in the head before he could.
A ringing sounded in my ears as a man got out of the car and started shooting at Dante.
One shot.
The guy fell.
Another followed.
Until six bodies scattered around the road.
I jumped a foot when Dante appeared at the passenger side and knocked on the window.
I opened the door.
He knelt down. “Are you okay?”
“I wasn’t getting shot at.”
He smirked. “Yeah well—”
The sound of a foot crunching against gravel hit my ears, Dante pointed the gun to the left and fired off two more rounds.
The guy, whoever he was, fell clutching his chest.
I sagged back against the seat.
“We’re almost home,” He kissed my cheek, tossed the gun back into the trunk and then grabbed his phone and called Nixon. “About ten miles out—”
I toned out his voice, the address he gave, the explanation.
This was the life I signed up for the minute I married him.
I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
The fighting.
The guns.
The blood.
Seven bodies just… dead.
By my husband’s hand.
The same hand that held mine like a vice the entire way home.
I was still in shock when we pulled into the driveway.
Nixon, Sergio, Frank, Phoenix, Chase, and Tex were all waiting in front of the house, arms crossed.
Mil was nowhere to be seen.
Which just made my stomach even sicker.
Dante killed the ignition and squeezed my hand one last time. “Trust me.”
“I do.”
“Love me.” He smiled sadly at our joined hands.
“Always.”
His eyes saddened. “I’m sorry, El, for what’s coming, for what I need to do, just know. If I could I’d run away with you — do the whole starving artist thing.” He bit down on his lip. “Draw couples on the street.”
“And I’d bake.”
He choked out a laugh. “And do dishes.”
“Make everything from scratch,” I added.
“These are our cards, El.”
“I know,” I admitted sadly.
He nodded his head and slowly got out of the car. I followed. We walked hand in hand to the men.
Dante stopped in front of Frank and slowly, confidently, raised his head and spoke the words I never thought I’d hear him say. “I, Dante Nicolasi Alfero accept my role as boss to the Alfero family.”
Frank’s eyes were a mixture of sadness and joy.
Nixon’s shoulders sagged in relief.
Dante released my hand as Frank leaned forward and kissed his left cheek then his right.
And down the line Dante walked.
Until he was faced with the capo. With Tex.
Tex held out his hand to Frank.
Frank slid a ring off of his right ring finger and placed it in Tex’s palm.
It looked heavy.
It was the crest of the Alfero family.
Tex kissed it, then slid it onto Dante’s finger.
The heaviness of what just happened hit me in the chest so hard, I swayed on my feet.
I’d left married to a made man.
And returned with the rightful boss to the Alfero throne.
One ring to rule them all, never felt so right.
And wrong at the same time.
“And now,” Frank grinned. “We toast.”
I tried to muster up a smile, but I was too sick over what Dante had done what I knew he had to do.
And what that meant for our future.
Especially since I knew he would be hunted more than ever.
Resented.
Despised.
Feared.
Revered.
I took a deep breath and followed the men in, and was stopped by Frank, by the killer of my ex-husband.
By the former boss of the Alferos.
“He did the right thing,” Frank whispered in a solemn voice. “This is his path, this should have been his father’s path, he is making right what I made wrong. It is my fault. And I will carry that burden all the way to my grave until I can see my brother again and apologize, until I can see Dante’s mother and kiss her face—” He shook his head at the house. “This life it is hard, but we make up for it. We laugh hard. We drink hard. We work hard. We live hard, and in the end, isn’t that what every human wants? An existence where they can close their eyes every night and know that if God took them — they did life well.”
I blinked up at him. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Eh, the mafia, makes you think of a lot of gray areas, there is no black and white in life don’t let anyone tell you any different. No straight lines. No rules. Life is life, it is up to us to decide how well we live what’s been given to us.”
I hung my head.
“No matter what happens, El,” Frank tilted my chin toward him. “You live hard. You live well.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smirked. “I’m not that old, and I am Dante’s uncle, that makes you my niece now.”
Family.
I had family.
Stunned I could only stare at him.
“What? You did not make the calculations in that head of yours.” He wrapped an arm around me and led me toward the door. “Now, we drink, every last drop of Nixon’s wine. I take great pleasure in raiding his cellar.”
I laughed at that. “I bet you do.”
“Serves him right for seducing my granddaughter and giving me a great-granddaughter who’s so damn beautiful it brings tears to my eyes to see her pink face.” He sighed. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I almost shot Nixon in the face?”
“Which time?” Tex called from inside the house.
“Or the time when Nixon almost beat the shit out of Tex and shot him at point blank range,” Chase mused into his wine glass. “Best bedtime story ever, wish I had a picture of his face, oh wait,” he closed his eyes. “There it is!”
Tex grumbled into his wine.
And soon we were joined by all the wives.
More bottles were opened in celebration.
And when Mil came home late — again.
Nobody said anything.